


Atonement

by queenof1000days



Category: Tin Man (2007)
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-08-18
Updated: 2010-09-12
Packaged: 2017-10-11 03:39:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/107926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenof1000days/pseuds/queenof1000days
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Azkadellia doesn't inform her sister of this, but she agrees with the people of the O.Z.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> _Title:_ Atonement  
> _Author:_ Meredith Paris  
> _Characters:_ Azkadellia, DG, slight mentions of Cain, Jeb, Ambrose, a few OC's.  
> _Pairing:_ n/a  
> _Summary:_ Azkadellia doesn't inform her sister of this, but she agrees with the people of the O.Z.  
> _Warning:_ Character death.  
> _Disclaimer:_ Tin Man and all recognizable characters are the property of Sci-Fi, NBC Universal, et al. The Wonderful Wizard of Oz is the property of L. Frank Baum and his estate. No harm is meant or intended.  
> _Author's Note:_ As always, a special thank you must go out to trystan830/tryswriter (on LiveJournal), Alamo Girl, and Kiera Kingsley for their beta jobs. (The major character death actually happens in chapter two.)

Azkadellia doesn't inform her sister of this, but she agrees with the people of the O.Z. It's been nearly one annual since the double eclipse and the citizens of the O.Z. are crying out for her execution. The first few days after the eclipse, her family is slowly starting to relearn itself and DG is starting to find out what being a princess of the Royal House of Gale all entails. Azkadellia watches her sister quietly; the guilt is becoming a familiar burden around her shoulders.

But it's not until the first assassination attempt that Azkadellia discovers the level of hate and scorn the people of the O.Z. have for her. She had thought with the witnesses who were there, the viewing that the Witch made of her defeat, and DG's vehement defense of her sister that they were starting to bring the people over.

But it was Beatrix in her bedroom with a simple but nasty looking knife that drove home the point that the people of the O.Z. will never forget nor forgive her. And as the details of her – _the Witch's_, Azkadellia has to forcibly remind herself – crimes against the O.Z. begin to reveal themselves daily, the people's cry for justice and subsequently her execution grow louder and stronger.

The look in her mother's eyes is filled with pity and love for her eldest daughter but Azkadellia was always good at reading people and she sees that not quite hidden emotion of blame in her gaze.

She tries to tell the servants of the various castles that her family live in that it wasn't her, it was the Witch but her efforts are failing. She doesn't know when she started to agree with the people of the O.Z. only that she does. But she doesn't tell DG this. Her younger sister is finding her footing in the new land and doesn't need to be bogged down by her sister's calm acceptance that her execution is only a matter of time.

Azkadellia slips through Finaqua, accepting the glares of hate from the inhabitants. She ignores DG's calls, her father's inquires. She walks up staircases, letting her body guide her where she's going. She ends up on top of a tower. The wind is blowing today and Azkadellia lets it whip her hair around her face, letting it become tangled and knotted. She walks to the edge of the tower and rests her hands on the wall. Closing her eyes, she feels the suns hit her face and she turns her head up at them. It's peaceful and quiet and Azkadellia can feel the guilt, the horror, the sadness start to slip away. This disturbs her as she feels this is her punishment for what happened. But oddly she doesn't go chasing after them.

She doesn't know how long she's standing up there when she hears footsteps behind her. She keeps her back turned. Let them do what they will – it's the least she deserves. It's only when they don't do anything, just stand there watching her is when she opens her eyes and turns around.

The person standing there makes the guilt, horror and sadness return ten-fold.

She doesn't look into his eyes; she concentrates on the stone floor. Jeb Cain stands there, arms clasped behind him, simply watching her. She doesn't have to look up at him to know what he's thinking. They remain like this for a while, her burden settling heavily on her shoulders, Jeb stoically standing there.

"I tried to stop her," Azkadellia blurts out. "I fought against her, her choices every time I could. But she was too powerful, too knowledgeable for me to do anything." Jeb now has his hands resting at his side, not saying a word. She rushes on, "I never meant for any of this to happen. When I could wrestle control away from her, I tried to counteract her orders." For some reason, she particularly wants forgiveness from this man. "I almost succeeded a few times. I know that the citizens of the O.Z. are calling for my execution. I've accepted the fact that my execution is just a matter of time." She can't look up at him, no matter how much she wants or should, "I am truly and deeply sorry for every thing I caused you, your family and the people."

"It's time to go below," Jeb answers and she lets out a sob. Resigned, she tries and fails to control her sobbing and walks past him. She idly notices that he doesn't give her the wide berth that all but her family and her sister's three companions give her. But that could be because the tower is not that wide. She manages to control her sobbing to only tears when the two reach the main floor of Finaqua. She bows her head, letting her hair cover her face and makes her way out to the lake.

She reaches her customary spot and sits down, rubbing her hand against her eyes. A handkerchief appears in front of her vision; she glances up and Jeb is standing there, an unreadable expression on his face. She accepts it.

For a long time, a formerly possessed Princess and a former resistance fighter look across the lake.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angst and lots of it. It does mention the character death previously mentioned in chapter two. I thought I was done with this angst riddled story and then I was talking to Celia Stanton, the plot bunny bit, she gave it carrots, and chapter three came out at 2:30 in the morning. The placement of this particular chapter is before chapter two but read chapter two first. As always, a huge thank you to Alamo Girl, Celia Stanton, ErinM and Trys for their help and beta jobs.
> 
> Please see Chapter 1 for the disclaimer.

She is sitting primly on her bed, back straight, shoulders square. One would think from just her posture alone that she is waiting for someone to come and find her. But if one were to look more closely, they would see that her knuckles are turning white and her fingernails are digging into the flesh of her palm.

The residuals of Beatrix's shouts still echo in her ears and the face of her would be assassin is intermingled with intense hatred and bone-crushing sadness. Azkadellia had dismissed everyone from her chambers – including her sister, whom Azkadellia had snapped at to get out. Azkadellia had known that convincing the people of the O.Z. would be difficult but she wasn't expecting this. If Beatrix, someone she thought accepted the chronicle of events the Queen had sent out, could do this, then what about those who didn't? What are they going to do? She notices that even after four months, the servants still give her a wide berth and this is not done out of respect.

_"You killed my children!" Beatrix's anguished voice echoes and Azkadellia has to bite back the rebuttal, the apology, the admission of guilt. Again._

She releases her shoulders just a bit and closes her eyes. She realizes that nothing she can or wants to do will bring back Beatrix's children but the urge to try is there.

There's a knock at the door and Azkadellia ignores it. The person out there knocks again. Azkadellia simply lies down on the edge of her bed, watching the knife fall from Beatrix's grasp, one of the guards forcing it from her fingers. It clanks on the floor and it's simple looking but Azkadellia knows it's particularly dangerous. The door opens and her sister walks in, DG's bare feet make a slapping type noise against the floor. Azkadellia doesn't acknowledge her sister's presence, not even when DG lies down behind her and places a hand on Azkadellia's upper arm.

"Az-" DG tries to speak but Azkadellia cuts her off with a forceful 'no'. DG lapses into silence.

The two sisters lay there in silence for the rest of the night.

_Dear DG,_

This is the night before my execution. It seems to be typical that condemned prisoners write letters, and I find myself resorting to it as well. I now understand why they do this – this is their final act.

Tomorrow, I am wearing yellow. Yellow, as you may remember, is the color of mourning in the O.Z. I am wearing yellow for every one who perished or suffered for the past fifteen plus annuals. Tomorrow is for them. Maybe with my death, they (and their families) can find some peace. Perhaps the O.Z. may find some peace or begin that process tomorrow.

I've known tomorrow was coming for a long time now; I've accepted it. When Beatrix tried to attack me, I fought against it. But knowing what I know about the people tomorrow needs to happen for them.

The day in the cave. Those five minutes which caused all this to happen. All of this could have been prevented if you hadn't let go. There were days – especially in the beginning and the first few months after the Eclipse – when I absolutely hated you. I hated you for the fact that if you hadn't let go of my hand – hadn't gone into the cave; none of this would have happened. The O.Z. wouldn't have suffered; I wouldn't have suffered. You have utterly no idea how much it hurt to have the Witch overtake me. How much it pained me to see the Witch's orders being ordered out because I ordered them.

However, the past annual has left me with plenty of time to think and explore and discover myself. If you take two things away from this letter, let it be this:

I forgive you and I love you, little sister.

Please remember that over the annuals. I do truly love and forgive you.

I'm not certain if Mother will extend me the same forgiveness I'm extending to you. She states that she loves me but I can see the blame in her eyes. I'm not certain if I can forgive her either. She knew that there was something wrong with me from the week that we were at Finaqua to the time at the Northern Palace. But yet she chose to do nothing to save me and in my mind, she is the one responsible for the violent coup that resulted three annuals later.

The dawn is approaching and I want to be done with this letter before the time comes for me to leave. My heart is empty – it feels like it's been encased in titanium to keep anything from entering or exiting. Perhaps this is for the best. I shall show a brave face to the O.Z. This leads me to a request that you already know.

I don't want anyone there. Tomorrow is going to be difficult enough for everyone and I don't want to add to it. I ask you to please not to show up. Be with our parents in this terrible hour.

My other request for you is going to sound strange coming in this form of letter but I hope you heed it.

Go after your Tin Man.

I can already hear you protesting that he's not your Tin Man but he is, DG. I think he's been yours and you've been his since you freed him from the iron maiden. I've had many opportunities to observe the two of you over the last annual and my skills at reading people have never diminished. He cares for you DG in more than a platonic way. I know you are definitely falling for him. So it's not two things that I ask you to remember from this letter, it's three.

I love you, I forgive you, and go after Wyatt Cain.

Writing of Wyatt Cain brings me to his son. Jeb is part of my detail and I've never worked up the courage to ask why. It may be because I'm afraid of what his answer will turn out to be. I don't think I could bear it if was to insure that tomorrow happens. But he, out of everyone, would have the best reason to say this and that would just break my heart. I'm not certain of what I feel for him but I think it's rather like what you feel towards your Tin Man. I regret the lost possibilities, of what that could be will never be. I've made my peace with that.

If tomorrow shall be my atonement, then let it be.

Azkadellia


End file.
